Cure
by fallen-forgotten-faith
Summary: In a world where love is a disease and people get cured at 18, Sasuke has never cared much about it. Until Naruto came along. Loosely based on Delirium by Lauren Oliver. SasuNaru.
1. Start

_**Cure**_

_**Loosely based on the novel 'Delirium' by Lauren Oliver. **_

I'd never really given much thought to love.

It wasn't as though I wasn't aware of its existence. I could see it everywhere, in the mothers who brushed the ponytails of their little daughters and the couples who strolled down the streets holding hands. I could see it in my mother's eyes.

But then _they _decided that love made people do crazy things, and that it was dangerous. Everyone had to get a vaccine upon turning 18. Those who were already infected with it had to undergo surgery, but even then it was hard to tell if love could be erased just like that from their lives. I was 7 when my mum was taken away. She didn't make it. I didn't want to know if it was because the love in her was so strong that it was eating away at her, making her body so weak that it couldn't withstand the pain of the operation.

My dad, ever the fighter, battled for as long as he could. Whether he was fighting love, or fighting _them_, I wasn't sure, but he succumbed eventually. It was down to my brother and I. Itachi had always shown me affection, but I wasn't sure if it was love. One night, though, he fled, but not before telling me that since I couldn't love, I ought to hate. He left before I could ask who, but I think even then I knew the answer. _Them. _Or him, for abandoning me and forcing me to grow up in that swift moment.

I'm turning 18 in 3 months, and I'm looking forward to getting cured. There's no one for me to miss, anyway.

* * *

><p><em><strong>School.<strong>_

"Teme."

I look up from my novel and scowl. "Dobe."

Naruto Uzumaki. He's always been an outcast, because of the infamous story of how his parents died. It's practically a legend in our little town. In fact, some people say, they might have been the reason why love was acknowledged as a deadly disease. Months after Naruto was born, the law was passed, and to escape the operation, both of them made a suicide pact. Lucky for Naruto, our high-school math teacher Iruka was kind enough to take him in – but even then, he couldn't shelter Naruto from the verbal abuse that was constantly hurled at him.

Naruto's staring at me intently now, with those fierce cerulean eyes. He reminds me of a fox sometimes. A little wild, mischievous…and lonely.

"What?" I snap.

"S'nothing." He mumbles, and makes to leave, but then turns to face me again. "I'm getting cured in 6 months."

I smirk. "I'm getting cured in three," I tell him, and I don't know why I sound so smug. Then again, getting cured is something to be proud of, right?

"You scared?" It comes out hesitant, a little broken even. A whisper, just in case nosey people around us overhear and accuse us of plotting to escape the operation.

I shake my head.

"Heh, I…" He pauses to scratch his nose, but I know it's because he's not sure if he should continue, and not because of an itch.

"Why, you're scared, usuratonkachi?" It's like a little game we play, Naruto and I. We've never called each other by our real names. Ever since our first meeting in kindergarten which ended in a sandbox scuffle, we'd called each other 'teme', 'dobe' and 'usuratonkachi'. Basically variations of 'bastard' and 'idiot'.

I don't know what you'd call us, really. We aren't friends. But we're not rivals, either. He's not my match at all. Perhaps we're just two lonely orphans relying on each other to fulfill our basic human need to socialize. Sounds cold and emotionless, but isn't the truth always?

He looks at me with that expression again, the one that promises confessions of pain, frustration and hurt, all of which will remain unspoken. But that expression usually only lasts a second, and just as quickly, it is replaced by a bright grin – almost loony, one would think, happy to the point of deliria.

"Of course not, teme!"

And with that, he's gone, off to bother someone else who might not even have the courtesy to indulge in petty conversation with him. I don't know why I do, really. Maybe it's because I'm the only one who understands that look he has sometimes.

* * *

><p>Have I mentioned the matchmaking process yet? No?<p>

We get paired, basically, after we're cured, based on our profiles, which we will fill in at the end of high school. The profiles will cover everything from family background to interests and desires in a partner. They don't really care about what we want, though; I think it's there just to trick us into thinking that we might have a choice. I'm not bothered by it. If anything, I'm glad that I don't have to go through the hassle of making a decision. If love has nothing to do with it, whoever I spend the rest of my life with doesn't matter. Not that I know what love is. I think. I can only recall it vaguely, that feeling of warmth and acceptance. But soon I won't remember anything of it anymore.

I'm surprised to see Naruto curled up outside my apartment, knees drawn to his chest, like it's cold outside when it's a good twenty-five degrees or so.

"What do you want?" It's automatic, this tone I'm taking. Designed to keep people away, out of my life. Keep those walls up. Keep me safe.

He sucks in some air, and then lets it out in a slow breath.

"I've always wanted to visit," he simply says.

And dumbstruck by this response, I unlock my door and let him in.

* * *

><p>Oh my, it's been so long since I've written something. I feel really good right now! So please help me feel better by giving me reviews! (:<p> 


	2. Sleep

_**Hey guys! Usually I'm really bummed whenever I have few reviews, but I noticed that some of you merely added it to your faves or story alert, so...yeah. Besides, it's nice to get back in the groove of writing, after about a year or so. Here's the second chapter, do review if you can, so the number won't look so pathetic and more people will read this fic! Hah! (:**_

* * *

><p>"Quite the minimalist, huh," he says, cocking his head to the left, as though it'll help him study my humble abode better, see it in a new light even.<p>

"Yeah, well," I go, then realise that I've uttered an expression which means nothing. _Yeah, well, what? _"It's just me, myself and I round here anyway. No one to impress."

I've never been one for colours and decorations. Do those things ever serve their purpose anyway? I highly doubt a portrait of a vase of sunflowers or pastel-pink wallpaper would help to boost my mood. A table and a sofa in the living room, that's all I need.

"Not even a TV?" he asks incredulously, as though I just announced that I was down with love. Down with love. A ridiculous concept, unheard of nowadays, unless you were really so unlucky – or weak.

I shrug. "The programmes they broadcast aren't very exciting." Which is true, they mostly screen old B-grade thrillers and sci-fi films.

He moves on to the kitchen, or what I call 'the little space which by right should be a kitchen but isn't really'. He laughs when I introduce it that way, and I can't help but feel myself smile a little. Just a slight quirk of my lips upwards, and gone before he whips around to ask me if I have any instant ramen.

"No, but help yourself to some oat biscuits," I offer, and gesture to a navy blue tin near him. He makes a face.

"God, teme, what do you live on? Biscuits and water?" He snorts.

"As a matter of fact, yes, and on good days, I nibble on a carrot or two," I reply sarcastically. In reality, I don't cook often. I usually grab takeaway on my way home. When I can be bothered to make myself a meal and clean up afterwards, it's usually something simple and fuss-free, like…soup.

He ignores me and makes his way towards my bedroom before I can yell 'out of bounds'. It's too late, I stand watching helplessly as he cautiously enters. I follow him in, ready to pounce if he chances upon anything too personal. But what am I saying, he's already encroaching on my private space, what's worse, I let him in…

"'Suke," he says, in a voice so low that it's a five-second delay before it hits me that it's the first time he's using my name – or the second half of it anyway.

I notice that he's holding something, a photo frame, and I know that he's too far in now. An honest mistake on my part. I hadn't even noticed that he'd opened the bedside drawer, I'd been too busy analysing why I'd even allowed him to come in.

"They would cure you right this instant if they found this," he continues, and traces the frame gently as though it were his precious possession too.

I don't know how to respond. I've never really thought about the implications of holding on to the only family photo I have left. Then again I'd never even considered letting anyone into my apartment, until now.

"I have one too," he murmurs, and sets my photo frame down gently. He reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out his wallet. "Just them, though," he tells me, before taking out a wrinkled old snapshot for me to see. Briefly I wonder what brought on this tiny emotional exchange, and if it will mean any change in our relationship – whatever we were, or are.

I see the resemblance straight away. He has his father's blonde hair, sunshine aura and of course those beautiful blue eyes. As for his mother, it's the flaming red hair that first captures my attention, but soon it's apparent that this is where Naruto got his quiet strength from. Her gentle expression reminds me of Naruto's, whenever he talks to Sakura Haruno, a classmate of ours. I think he's infected a little, with love for her, and sometimes I feel like warning him to be careful, before I remember that we're hardly friends and I have no obligation to.

Word is that Sakura is slightly infected too, and I'm the one to blame. I try not to notice the fact that she blushes whenever I'm near and giggles a lot whenever I pass by. Truth be told, it annoys me. I don't know why I dislike her so.

"Hn," I hold on to the photo for a second longer, then hand it back to him. Why don't I have the courage to stop sounding like an emotionless bastard? It seems so flippant, to be going 'hn' when someone has just shared something so personal with you. I've a feeling that he's never showed this photo to anyone else, except maybe Iruka.

There's silence as he carefully tucks it back into his wallet, and the bright orange square disappears into his pocket again. It's kind of gaudy, I think, but then again it must be the lack of colours in my life talking.

"Hey, can I crash here tonight?" So sudden, and he says it so chirpily too, it amazes me how quickly he bounces from sombre to sunny.

"Why?" I'm suspicious, and rightly so. In all our 11 years of knowing each other, we'd barely interacted. And all of a sudden, in the span of a few hours, we're so familiar with each other that he wants to sleep over.

He shrugs, but I know that there's a proper answer to my question. He's just not ready to say it yet.

"I only have one bed, and it's pretty small," I point out, and then feel a little silly for having done so. I mean, duh.

He smiles, or at least attempts to. "I don't mind."

Time seems to drag on slowly as I process what this means. Naruto and I, sharing my tiny bed, not enough space for us to spread our arms and legs out in deep slumber, nope, just nice if we curl up against each other though, whoa wait, physical contact…

"I need a shower," I announce, and head straight to the bathroom, hearing a soft poof as Naruto plonks himself down on my bed without permission.

As I undress, I'm thinking about how it'd feel later, pressed up against someone I'd known nearly my entire life and yet still a stranger. I wonder if we'll sleep with our backs to each other, or if we'll doze off in a near-hug, or if we'll be depriving each other of oxygen by facing each other.

We'd be dead if anyone knew. Even if we aren't in love, being so physically close just doesn't seem very innocent.

When I'm done with my shower, I head back to my room, only to see that Naruto has made himself so comfortable that he's already dead to the world, sprawled across my bed like a drunkard.

I consider waking him, but decide against it. Still, he hasn't left much space for me. I nudge him gently, in an effort to get him to shift. He stirs, moves a little, opens his mouth and then closes it.

Well. I manage to slide in beside him. At least the problem of which side to face has been solved, he's sleeping face up, and I've decided to face the wall to avoid any awkwardness lest he shifts again.

It's warm here. Not in the annoying, I-want-to-kick-off-the-blankets way. It's familiar, and for a second I recall my mother, tucking me in, the warmth of her body as she leans over and gives me a kiss goodnight on my forehead. Love, or something like it.

This is ridiculous. I don't even know him. Not really.

His toes are nearly touching mine now, as if to say, you're wrong, we do know each other. We've known each other for a very long time, but we've never dared admit it.

He lets out a soft snore, and I let myself smile, because in the dark, no one can see and we're safe. I'll worry about tomorrow, the days after and the rest of my life some other time. Right now, I'm fighting to make a memory of this moment, imprint it in my head, so that three months down the road, after I'm cured, maybe I'll be lucky enough to remember it.


	3. Wake

I wake up before he does. In the span of a few hours, he's shifted his position to that of a curled-up cat – or perhaps a fox, to be more apt.

My body has gone rigid from the lack of movement overnight, and I contemplate the best way to get out of bed or stretch without waking the moron up. Then again, what does it matter if I do jolt him awake?

I lie there for another minute or two, listening to him breathe, and forgetting the world for the moment. I decide to risk waking him and scramble out of the bed in as fluid a motion as I can, which isn't saying much, because I end up getting slightly tangled in the sheets. After a quiet struggle, I manage to sneak off to the bathroom, but I sneak a peek at the blonde on my bed – miraculously, he's still asleep.

* * *

><p>When I exit the bathroom, patting my hair dry and clad only in my navy blue towel, he's sitting cross-legged on the bed and staring at his fingers – or toes.<p>

'Hey,' I mumble a greeting of sorts.

He looks up and smiles. First thing in the morning.

'Hey,' he replies softly.

'Better get dressed,' I tell him. 'School.'

He laughs. 'Idiot, it's a Saturday.'

Wow. Since when had I become the muddle-headed one? Naruto's presence was making me confused. It was messing up my usual routine. Friday nights were for watching bad 'blockbuster specials' and curling up in bed with a novel, and Saturday mornings were for oatmeal and walking about town aimlessly – not facing a noisy blonde classmate with a bad case of bedhead. Although he did look rather …interesting with the tufts of hair sticking out.

'Still.' I pause, looking at the clock. 'It's almost 10.'

'Well, I suppose I should get going, yeah…' He stretches his arms upwards, and yawns.

'Hn,' is all I say. _Yes,__yes__you__should._

He looks down, sniffs his shirt and sticks his tongue out. 'Heh, probably should shower first though,' he says, and looks at me with a questioning gaze.

I point him in the direction of the bathroom, and he leaps out of the bed and nearly knocks me over, desperate to get himself clean.

'Sorry, but I stink!' he yells, and I…I can't help but smile.

* * *

><p>'I grabbed a random tee and a pair of jeans, is that okay?'<p>

I nod, busily stirring my oatmeal. Great, we've now moved on to sharing clothes. All this sudden intimacy…or am I over-thinking it?

He seems to be waiting for me to look at him and either scream 'No! Take those off!' or glare, or any response really. When he finally realises that he won't be getting more than a nod, he sighs and shuffles off.

'Well, I've got stuff to do, so…'

'Why'd you stay over?' I demand suddenly, finally looking up from the mush I called breakfast. The question had been gnawing away at me since last night, when he had the expression of someone hiding something important.

'No reason.' A lie.

'Why me?' I see those blue eyes shift a little, he's uncertain whether or not to tell the truth.

'We're friends?' he ventures, giving me a small half-apologetic 'heh'.

'We're nothing,' I say, and it comes out sounding vicious instead of the mere fact that it is.

He stares at me, silent.

'I just thought you'd understand.' He sounds somewhat hurt. 'They took Iruka away.'

My eyes widen. What – I hadn't heard about that.

'Guess someone accused him of love. Like, really loving me, instead of just doing his duty and giving me a roof over my head and enough to fill my stomach.' He's tripping over his words, choking up, and I feel like the bastard he's always said I am.

Of course I didn't know about Iruka, but still.

'You know what, though?' he goes on, though his words are slowly morphing into indecipherable blubber, because he's trying hard to fight the tears – he doesn't want to cry, not right now, not in front of me, Uchiha Sasuke- not even a friend. 'I think he really did. And what's wrong with that? What's wrong with love?'

And at that, I feel myself shiver, as though any moment now _they_would storm into my apartment and arrest the both of us. To be honest, I have no answer for Naruto. Whatever I remembered of love, or what I assumed it to be, had been pleasant. There wasn't anything wrong with love. There isn't. But I can't bring myself to say that.

'Love makes you weak.' Again I sound cold, even to my own ears. But it's true, emotional bonds only keep you holding on to something that will hold you back.

Naruto's crying now, trying to keep it down to a few choked sobs, and failing in his attempt to cry like a man.

'You don't have to put up an act in front of me, dobe,' I tell him, and I let a subtle hint of gentleness enter my tone. It's so subtle that anyone else might think that I was sneering and not offering comfort, but he didn't miss it.

He cries, for real this time, harder and with all the anguish that's been bottled up inside of him ever since he was an infant.

I don't know what to do. I've never had to comfort anyone, and I haven't cried since the day everyone precious to me had disappeared.

'He'll be okay,' I settle on this, though I don't know how much comfort it'll bring. I'm still standing a fair distance away from Naruto, and I wonder if I should cross over and initiate physical contact – a pat on the back, an arm around the shoulder? But then I remember the risks and I stop myself.

'I wish love didn't exist,' he spits out bitterly, furiously dabbing his tears away.

'You don't mean that.'

'I do,' he sniffles. 'It's too painful loving someone and being loved.'

'How can it be painful being loved?' I was loved, once. I think. It wasn't painful at all. Rather the contrary.

'It is when the ones loving you get punished for it,' he says, and I know he's thinking of his parents and Iruka. He tries to get up, and wobbles a little, still giddy from all the crying, and instinctively I rush over to prop him up.

'Thanks,' he whispers, leaning on me for support.

His eyes look sore, and the brilliance of those blue orbs has been dimmed, but they still make me catch a breath when he looks up at me – and then he smiles, much weaker than usual, but just as gentle, and I swear my heart is knocking against my ribcage, like a policeman demanding to enter a crime scene.

_**Symptom #1 : Holding your breath in when the person affecting you is near**_

_**Symptom #2 : Irregular heartbeat**_

Shit.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Was planning to give up on this fic, but after reading SasuNaru fics for the past few days, my love for the two was rekindled. Damn I love them so so much. Honestly, if either of them end up with anyone else in the manga I'd be heartbroken. Review please? (:<strong>_


	4. Go

He feels me flinch, out of fear for myself, but he mistakes it for disgust. He sighs.

'Sorry, too close for comfort, huh?' He makes an attempt to get to the door, his sadness weighing down his steps, making them clumsy and slow.

'Naruto, I…' I realize that I don't quite know what to say. I'm sorry? I'm scared? I think I might be sick?

Even when the soft click of the door tells me of his absence, I still don't have an answer. But my heart, it's still beating fast, and it's only when I find myself letting out a huge sigh do I realize that I must have been holding my breath for a long time.

* * *

><p>He's at Ichiraku's joking away with the chef, apparently restored to good spirits by a hot bowl of miso ramen.<p>

I'd taken time to think – about a half-hour or so, letting myself calm down and analyse the situation. Perhaps this was just a one-time thing. I was confused, that was it. Naruto had come in and shared things I didn't want to hear, and he was making me about as rational as one of the newly infected – more often than not, the girls who'd somehow scored an illegal romance novel, devoured it and found a boy whom they could imagine as their personal hero.

I stand there, wondering what to say, or if I should even say anything at all. Perhaps I ought to turn back –

"Miso?"

I glance around quickly; the other patrons seem to be engaged in their own idle chat. Naruto gestures to the empty seat beside him; his back still stooped low and turned to me, as he slurps up the last of his ramen.

No thanks, is what I want to say, but I'm presented with a steaming bowl of noodles nonetheless. Naruto grins at me.

"Go on," he urges.

To tell the truth, I'd never eaten at Ichiraku's. I never took much delight in eating – to me, it was just a necessary process, an action we had to carry out daily to ensure our survival – nothing more.

Hesitantly, I break apart my chopsticks and dip them gently into the bowl. Naruto is staring at me expectantly. He knows that this is my first time. What he wants to see, I'm not sure, but I think he wants an expression of euphoria, much like that…idiotic…grin of his.

I lift the noodles up as though they were precious cargo, and my right hand was the crane. I bend my neck a little, and inch my hand towards my mouth – then I slurp the noodles in, in a poor imitation of Naruto. It's slobbery, messy, but – the ramen is delicious. Just the right kind of salty.

I make sure to mask any sign of pleasure written on my face.

Naruto's grin has morphed into a soft smile.

"Glad you liked it, teme," he says.

Once again, there's that funny hitch of my breath, foreign warmth spreading through me – or perhaps not so foreign. Once upon a time, that feeling had been familiar – in the way my brother had poked my forehead, my mum tucked me in, my dad patted me on the back.

"I'll help you find Iruka," I offer.

His eyes widen. _Really?_

_Really. _

He doesn't say anything, because he doesn't need to. I can see it all in his eyes- relief, gratitude, happiness, all swirling in those pools so blue.

* * *

><p>We set off after my last slurp of ramen. He tells me in a low voice that there is someone he's heard of, someone they say has helped a lucky few escape from <em>them.<em> Kakashi. Naruto says it slowly, Ka-Ka-Sheee.

"He lives on the outskirts of Konoha, beyond those huge wooden doors, and they say he's got the survivors with him," Naruto goes on.

I'm busy wondering how we're even going to get out in the first place, but Naruto doesn't seem the least bit worried.

"They lock up anyone who tries leaving Konoha," I remind him.

He shrugs.

"What's the big deal? We're going to die soon anyway- you in three months and me in six. I don't mind spending some time in jail if it'll get Iruka out." He doesn't sound like himself. The bitter tone surprises me, & I find myself unable to reply.

We walk on in silence, until he asks me softly, "Haven't you ever thought of leaving this place?"

I shake my head. "No," I reply honestly. "In fact, I've been looking forward to the operation all my life."

"Don't you ever wonder what it's like to love, then?"

I keep my gaze firmly focused on the path ahead, because I don't want to see the look on his face. If the sadness in his voice is anything to go by…

"I don't think it exists."

He sighs, kicks a little gravel with his foot.

"Maybe you're right," he admits.

We've reached the guardhouse now, and some young jounin is on duty. Naruto raises a hand in greeting. "Blackbird," he says, and the boy smiles.

And just like that, the doors open for us, showing us the beautiful world out there, the possibility of freedom, the chance to love – and be loved.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I was re-reading and watching the bit where Naruto is telling Sasuke that he'll die with him, and I just suddenly felt really optimistic about SasuNaru. I mean, the way things are, it seems unlikely that Sasuke will be with Sakura or Karin, and there are many hints about how Naruto is the only one who hasn't given upcan save Sasuke from himself. **_

_**So what do you guys think? Is there hope yet for a subtle, open SasuNaru canon ending? **_


	5. Pretend

It is another hour before we reach what Naruto has christened 'The Sanctuary' – whether that is its official name or not, I have no idea, but it sounds about right, especially when he says it in that conspiratorial whisper.

That walk was spent mostly in silence, with just the sound of our footsteps and the occasional cough as auditory reminders that we were travelling together.

Naruto squints at the sight before us – tents and piles of twigs, children running amok – it looks like some refugee camp, which by right, it is.

There are smiles on everyone's weary faces, and there are couples smoothing away flyaway strands of wispy hair, kissing each other gently, bubbling over with warmth, joy and everything we had never properly known.

I feel slightly dizzy at this spectacle, and glance at Naruto for reassurance, but it's futile – he's smiling too, just like them, only more radiant and achingly beautiful – the kind of smile that hides envy and hope.

A silver-haired man emerges, half of his face covered with a patch, leaving one eye free to rove around and survey the genuinely happy little community around him. He stops to ruffle the hair of a passing child, and winks at a woman out hanging her laundry, who promptly harrumphs and makes a show of beating at the clothes.

He notices us a second later and his eyes – or well, eye – crinkle to form a crescent-like shape, signalling glee.

'It's been a while since we've had new arrivals,' is the first thing he says, when he strides up to us.

'We're not-'I begin, but Naruto sticks his right hand out and announces, 'I'm Uzumaki Naruto and I've come to ask Kakashi for help!'

The man is not old, I notice. He is of rather lean build, and there are no evident wrinkles on what can be seen of his face.

He chuckles. 'How fortunate for you…I answer to that name. What is it that you need help with, eh?'

Naruto looks uncertain for a brief moment, but then explains the situation to Kakashi, ending with a desperate : 'I really want to see him again, before they…if they…' and I know that he doesn't want to continue; doesn't want to say the most likely outcome out loud.

Kakashi casts a questioning gaze onto me, to which I shake my head. 'I'm just…here,' I tell him lamely.

He nods and looks at Naruto again, who is preoccupied with staring at the contrast of his black sandals against the green wild grass.

'People have come to me,' he begins, 'with half their memories wiped out and their bodies brusied and battered. _They _can't touch us here, but then, not many people know that _here _exists.'

'I asked around,' Naruto answers the silent question softly.

'I haven't gone back since I escaped,' Kakashi continues, 'they probably have a warrant on my head. I managed to save as many as I could '- his hand sweeps across in a grand gesture at this – 'but I had to leave some people behind, to make sure that there would always be someone aware of the existence of this place, this sanctuary.'

He appears to be smiling – I cannot tell thanks to the mask - as he asks Naruto: 'I'm sure you know the name of our little rebel faction, don't you, Naruto?'

Naruto nods. 'Blackbird.'

'And tell me, Naruto, and your dear friend-' he turns to look at me again, and I supply him with my name, '-Sasuke, how you know this.'

'I…Iruka's part of B- Blackbird…' he manages to stammer out, after a moment of silence. Why he was afraid to say so, I had no idea.

'One of my best men, I'd say,' Kakashi picks up immediately. 'Never got to know him too well, but from what I hear, he's been steadfastly dedicated to the cause- saved quite a few lives, this one. But now…'

'_They're _on to him, aren't they?' asks Naruto, his tone now pleading, begging to hear _No._

'And they'll be on to you too, in no time,' Kakashi responds grimly. 'Probably ransacking your apartment now, those immoral bastards…looking for any piece of evidence they can use against Iruka.'

My head is spinning from all these new revelations. Okay, run through what has just been said. One, a rebel faction currently exists. Two, Naruto has been aware of this all along. Three, Iruka – whom we are currently trying to save- is actually part of said faction.

'We're going to need a plan,' I say aloud, more to keep my thoughts steady than to sincerely help organise theirs.

'For that, we need tea and chairs,' Kakashi announces, and starts to head towards a tiny hut. 'Follow me.'

* * *

><p>His hut is littered with books- not of the intellectual variety, I note, as I glance at a cover with a man surrounded by a bevy of scantily-clad beauties.<p>

On his wall hangs a patchwork quilt with the word 'LOVE' stitched onto it, a reminder of what keeps this small world of his alive.

We help ourselves to two cushions acting as chairs, as Kakashi digs through a pile of crumpled papers.

'Could've sworn…' he mutters, fingers flicking at the edges quickly.

Naruto is busy studying the interior of the hut, taking in the quilt, various photo frames and the small kitchen, before letting his eyes rest on me. He smiles, knowing that for the past minute I've been observing him. I turn away immediately, the nauseating feeling in my stomach rising up again.

'Ah!' Kakashi cries, and produces a simple brown envelope out of the mess.

He pulls out what looks like a profile sheet, and waves it in our faces. 'The name Tsunade mean anything to you?'

Naruto snatches at the paper, but Kakashi insists on flopping it about. 'Classified information,' he says, before adding : 'She's our ... head mole, if you could call it that. Planted her among _them _long ago. You'll need her.'

'Well then, we'll need to see what she looks like,' I growl, annoyed by the incessant flap-flap of the paper.

Naruto nods vigorously, like a bobble-head doll.

'I'll tell her about you two,' he replies curtly, sliding the paper back into the envelope – leaving it a mystery why he even chose to take it out in the first place.

Naruto and I exchange looks of disbelief, and I find the situation suddenly funny. I can't help but snort- it's the closest I've come to laughing in ages, but Naruto laughs, actually laughs, uninhibited and noisy.

'Anyway,' Kakashi continues, ignoring our slight outburst, 'I hope you know what rescuing Iruka will involve.' He quirks an eyebrow at this.

We glare at him in unison – _no, we don't ._

'Well, you'd have to either be diseased or cured to enter The Labs,' he tells us. 'It would be less life-threatening if you guys entered as cureds, but…'

'I could push my procedure early,' I interrupt him as the idea pops into my mind.

Naruto makes a slight choking noise. 'What?'

'I'll push my procedure early,' I repeat. 'That way I can get in without any trouble.'

'And what about me?' he sputters, 'this isn't a one-man show, you know.'

'You could do the same,' I tell him.

'Many things could go wrong.' He scratches at his face, unsure, but contemplating the suggestion nonetheless.

Kakashi sighs. 'It's not too bad an idea,' he admits. 'But as much as they would like to get everyone cured ASAP, it doesn't work that way- you can't just stroll in and say, hey I'm ready for the cure, shoot- you have to be given priority.'

'How do we get priority?' demands Naruto, his earlier desperation seeping back in, replacing whatever slight humour he'd found in the situation just a couple of minutes prior.

'I guess they'll cure you if you're really sick – or an Unnatural. They don't get many of those, but they cure them first in any case, to prevent more of them from sprouting up.'

'Unnatural?' I frown at this. It doesn't sound too good.

'Those who love animals – well, are attracted to them sexually – or people who love corpses, weird things …men who love other men, ladies who like women…' Kakashi smirks upon listing the last two.

'So you're suggesting that Sasuke and I pose as Unnaturals to get into The Labs, but break free and find Iruka before they can cure us?' Naruto questions, worry written on his face, like the plan sounds near impossible to carry out.

I glance at him quickly, to see how he feels about having to be an Unnatural alongside me. He doesn't seem any different. On the other hand, I feel like my insides are being wrung and stretched, squeezed and pulled – I fear for my health and safety. Tiny symptoms are starting to show, and if I pretend to be infected, I might actually get the disease for real – especially with Naruto playing along.

Kakashi shrugs. 'It might be hard to pull off.'

Naruto turns toward me, and grabs my hand before I can protest. He gives it a little squeeze.

'We can do this!' He grins at me and nods emphatically, and I want so badly to believe him.

'Yes, we can,' I echo, and my hand feels like it's on fire, clutched in his, and that fire is travelling inside my veins, up, up, up and all around , igniting the first sparks of love, that dreadful disease, and burning my doubts to ember.

* * *

><p>So I just finished Pandemonium, the 2nd book in the Delirium trilogy…I'm leaning towards Team Julian, though it's probably because I kind of forgot what Alex was like already. Can't wait for the next book, but it'll only be out next year! Anyway, for those of you who are anticipating some SasuNaru (finally!) – stay tuned for the next chapter! Review please!<p> 


	6. Act

We have been given temporary lodging in the form of a simple tent, complete with two pillows and a blanket. I could've sworn Kakashi was smirking as he handed them over and said, 'No chance of infection here, don't worry.'

Now here I am, hugging my knees to my chest, just waiting. Enduring a long awkward silence as Naruto figures out what being an Unnatural would mean.

'I wonder how they do it,' he says aloud, before hastily adding: 'fall in love, I mean.'

I shrug. We don't even know how 'normal' people love.

'Then again, how would we know?' he continues, echoing my unspoken thought. 'Iruka showed me something once, though. I don't know where he got it, but it was a movie someone made way back when love was still legal…and it was beautiful. It made me cry. '

I am aware that I am holding my breath again, the way I tend to around Naruto. He's looking at me now, noting that my chest is slightly puffed out; and that there hasn't been a steady rise and fall for the past few seconds.

He chooses not to speak, and instead offers me a slight smile before lying on his back.

'Doesn't this remind you of that night?' he asks me softly.

I nod, afraid that any noise to come out of my mouth would be unintelligible.

'Somehow, next to you, I felt…safe. The way I used to when I was 7 and nightmares kept me up, and Iruka let me sleep in his bed…' he laughs at this memory, a gentle snort.

I remain quiet, reliving that night once more in my mind. I hadn't spoken to Naruto much before then, and I had no inkling of what love meant – but I had known then that it must have been something like that.

And suddenly I feel it engulfing me, the warmth and the slightly sweaty scent of Naruto. He has pulled me down beside him, and now we're staring into each other's eyes, obsidian to cerulean.

'We don't have to act,' he whispers. 'It could be real.'

Those 4 words – _it could be real _- start clawing away at me, like hyenas ripping apart their prey. The disease has won, and it is making me feel feverish.

I want so badly to give myself up to it, lose myself in the irrationality of it all, but reason holds me back : there will be no way out of it. I can't experience love and get cured, because forgetting would be even more painful than death. The way things stand, it's still highly likely that I will have to go through the operation – I'm not at all confident about our mission's success.

But he inches slightly closer, unsure of what to do as well, probably following what he had seen in that illegal film (of course, with male and female protagonists). He inches closer, and I can't bring myself to argue. I am shivering, out of fear and anticipation.

'Is this what they do?' he asks me, lips almost touching mine, his breath ticklish on my chapped skin.

'Maybe,' is the cracked word that comes out of my mouth, the first and the last of the night.

He closes the distance between us, and we don't know what we're doing at all, letting our diseased bodies run on automatic.

He has one leg over me, protectively pressing my entire body flush against him, and his hands are around me in an embrace. It makes me breathless, this intimacy, and I bury my shaky hands in his soft golden spikes to steady myself.

We're still kissing, but it's not at all urgent or raw, it's laced with the innocence and natural wonder of two boys who have never truly used their senses of touch beyond courteous shaking of hands and accidental brushes.

I can feel myself reacting to all of this, and instantly feel nauseous. It scares me, but I know that Naruto must be going through the same emotions- he's just using his tried-and-tested trick of acting confident. Inside, he's probably just as nervous as I am.

We pull apart and he's looking at me questioningly, shifting his right hand out from underneath me and moving his left to my chest.

He drags it about slowly, letting his fingers brush against the more sensitive spots, and I flinch. I am close to fainting from a lack of intake of air, and noting this, he stops.

'Sorry,' he mumbles, 'I was curious.'

He sounds so apologetic that it makes me feel guilty. As a way of reassuring him that I'm alright, I take his hands and put them on me once more.

He raises his eyebrows and breaks into that trademark grin, the one that puts all doubts to rest.

'I don't really know what to do,' he admits. We're both aching with need, but in certain places we dare not mention, let alone touch.

I don't want to speak because I'm afraid that I might ruin the moment. Naruto seems to understand this and we reach a silent agreement that it ends here, tonight, as much as we'd like to know more; feel more.

He hugs me a little tighter, and I bury my face in the crook of his neck. Just as I'm about to drift off to sleep, he whispers: 'I think I'm sick.' And in another world, this might have been a turn-off, or a literal statement, but in _our _world, I know what he means. I smile, even though he can't see me, because if I cry he'll know. And now isn't the time for us to be sad – we don't have much time left until our mission. And if we fail, we'll be Cured straight away.

I'm awoken by the early-morning chatter of the Sanctuary's inhabitants. Naruto's scratchy voice stands out from the rest – or is it just that I'm more aware of it than anything else?

I feel weak after what happened last night, going back and forth between thoughts of: _it was a mistake _and _it was real. _I'm so terrified of having, because having means a chance of losing and I lost everything once. I don't want to lose anything precious to me ever again. *

'Sasuke!'

His outstretched palm holds a bowl of soup, and as I walk closer I see it in his smile – genuine affection for me, that forbidden word.

How did we get here, from barely acknowledging the other's existence? No, we'd known each other all along. There had been that exchange of glances when we were kids and both alone, the traded insults, the constant attempts to outdo the other…yet how could all that add up and snowball into something _this _huge, something so intense?

He sees the worry in my eyes, instead of reciprocation, and I instantly feel guilty.

'I think,' he says, gently pushing the bowl into my hands, 'I've been showing symptoms for a long time but I just didn't know what they meant.'

He always knows what I'm thinking. I lift the bowl up as a thank-you. I don't know if I have the courage to face up to my feelings, but I want to try for Naruto.

That determination burns even fiercer when Kakashi calmly informs us later that we leave for The Labs tomorrow. Naruto smiles at me, so hopeful that we'll make it through, that I know I'll fight for _him, _I'll fight for _this –_ whatever we have. The disease won, but it was a battle I was glad to lose. This new battle won't be so easy- and defeat would mean the end of everything.

'Are you ready?' Kakashi asks, looking straight at me.

I close the distance between Naruto and I, surprising him, Kakashi, and even myself.

_As ready as I'll ever be, _I think, as Naruto kisses me back.

'I think you are,' laughs Kakashi, clearly enjoying what he thinks is meant for show. But Naruto and I know it's not an act – we just have to make the rest of the world see it and believe that there's nothing wrong.

**Sorry for the slow update, guys! Couldn't figure out how to continue. Hope the next one will come quickly (:**

***: You SHOULD find this line familiar because Sasuke said it in one of the season 1 episodes while protecting Naruto. Translations may vary, but I think the essence is there, and I choose to take it as a SasuNaru hint. **


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